


Under the Wolf Moon

by Sylvinessa



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Chasind, F/M, Friendship, Gods, Love, Magic, Miscarriage, Polygamy, Rites of Passage, totem spirits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvinessa/pseuds/Sylvinessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This began as an RP character based on the Chasind in the Dragon Age universe. I'm not sure how many actual cameos there will be. It may end up growing into something that becomes a stand alone work independent of the DA universe at the way it's going. Either way, enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Wolf Moon

Snow fell in constant waves of heavy, large flakes, coating the world outside and muffling everything. The crackling of the fire in the hearth and Nimi’s pained grunts were the only sounds in the small hut and seemed all the louder for the silence brought about by the deep drifts outside. Finally, the shrill cry of a baby pierced the icy night air. After several days of painstaking labor, the child had finally arrived and was determined to make her presence known to the world. Mother Dreyia made quick work of tying off the umbilical cord and wiping the newborn clean in preparation to hand her over to the new parents, but stopped suddenly. The expression on the healer’s face was nothing short of pure shock, and she waved her husband over to her side frantically.   
  
Shaman Alev furrowed his brow, puzzled by his wife’s reaction. She’d attended the births of every child in the tribe for the past decade, but he’d never seen her act like this. Walking over to her, he peered down at the tiny babe waving her fists in the air defiantly and stared, just as stunned as his wife. It was no wonder she’d stopped what she was doing to summon him, for there on the girl’s hip was the unmistakable brand of Brother Wolf.  
  
***************** Fifteen Years Later ********************  
  
Veylia knelt beside the bloodied corpse, looking but being careful to not touch it. This was the fifth such find in half as many days and there was no longer any doubt in her mind that the wolf responsible was infected. The ferocity of the attacks, the indiscriminate choice in victims, the fact that the bodies were not consumed for food...it all pointed to the foaming disease. If the tribe didn’t locate the beast and put it down soon, they would have a crisis on their hands. She had to tell someone what she’d found.  
  
She knew shouldn’t be out in the woods alone, especially given that she was not yet sixteen and there was a dangerously ill animal roaming somewhere nearby, but she never had been the type to sit on her hands in a hut while the menfolk tended to the hunting. Let the other women hide indoors. She would not be contained by fear. She was a far better tracker than old Aren, and twice as fast as that braggart Yuhf. That was how she had come across Niru’s body when the others had not. She’d managed to follow the almost non-existent trail left by the seasoned hunter after overhearing his wife state that he hadn’t returned from the previous night’s hunt. Padra would weep, but at least she would be able to have peace in knowing what had happened.  
  
Scurrying up a nearby tree, she extracted her hunting knife and went to work cutting down several of the lower limbs. She needed to report her find to the rest of the tribe, but she would not leave the potentially tainted blood uncovered for other innocent animals to become infected. She was careful to take only those branches that were superfluous; the ones that drained a healthy tree of much needed water and prevented it from growing as full as needed to provide adequate shelter to those who needed it. Once she had a suitable pile, she hopped down and landed in a crouch, barely making a sound as her knees bent to absorb the shock of her jump. She arranged the branches over the body, doing her best to provide a thick layer of cover until it could be properly burned and the soul placed to rest by the Shaman. It wasn’t much, but at least it would keep larger creatures from getting infected by the contaminated blood on the ground.   
  
She backtracked along her path, making her way far more quickly back to camp than it had taken her to reach Niru’s location. With each step closer to home, she focused on straightening her shoulders and raising her head tall and proud to help dispel the image of youth that clung to her. The elders would not be pleased that she had gone out on her own, but they needed to focus on the dangers posed by the wolf and not whether she were too inexperienced to participate in hunting it down. The animal was taking seasoned men, so they would need all the help they could get. She intended to demand a place among the group that would be dispatched to find the animal, and she was not going to take no for an answer.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Shamen Alev and Mother Dreyia shared a look between themselves amidst the shouting of the menfolk of the tribal council. The young woman’s audacity was unusual for a female of the tribe, but they were not surprised. Everything about Veylia had broken with tradition from the moment of her birth. She’d been marked by Brother Wolf as one of his chosen, a rarity for females and doubly so for such an undistinguished family as hers. That the god of the hunt had chosen to bless her with a spirit to match her skill just served to remind them that there was no predicting the will of the gods. Her path would never be that of other women in the village and after a mutual nod of understanding they made their feelings on the matter known.  
  
“Let the girl go if she so wishes,” Alev’s voice rumbled through the room, silencing the bickering warriors and hunters arguing over what to do with Veylia. “She found our fallen brother when the rest of you did not. We know she carries Brother Wolf’s favor with her wherever she goes. It would be foolish to deny the will of the god of the hunt just because her body is that of a girl-child.”   
  
Jaws dropped around the room, though a few of the men who had strong-willed wives and daughters of their own hid smirks behind the backs of their hands. The Shaman rarely spoke up unless he sincerely believed the hand of the gods to be involved. Confidence bolstered, Veylia stared down the entire group, refusing to lower her eyes to even the most dominant of personalities present. She was fearless, of that there was no doubt in anyone’s mind.   
  
Finally Rhali, a warrior with more darkspawn raids under his belt than any other present, broke the silence. “Then the girl goes,” he boomed, glaring back at the impertinent whelp of a girl who dared to challenge their traditions. “But do not expect anyone to coddle her. She does so with the full responsibility of anyone else on the hunt. Her safety is in her own hands. We leave at first light.”  
  
That settled it, even though the majority of the men present were clearly unhappy about the decision. Veylia bowed her head once in the way of acknowledgement between men and said nothing. The remainder of the meeting was to be filled with discussions between the most experienced of the tribe on how to best hunt down the wolf. She excused herself to lead a smaller party back to the location where she’d left Niru’s body so his spirit could be put to rest. Already, she was making a list of what she would need on the morrow, excited by the prospect that she was being allowed such an honor. She had no concern for her own well-being on the hunt. The tribe would be protected, and that was all that mattered.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Dawn crept into the village on cat paws, completely unnoticed by everyone in the tribe save those who had gathered to track down the rabid wolf. Veylia had bound her unruly blonde hair back tightly, wearing it in a more severe fashion than even many of the men with long hair standing nearby. She would not afford herself any distractions on this day. She’d been granted a place of honor by being allowed to join the adults and she would not disgrace herself by being anything less than her best.   
  
A few of the men continued to give her sideways glances while the Shaman asked for Brother Wolf’s blessing upon the group. The last time the foaming sickness had befallen their home had been over a generation ago, and many lives had been lost before the infected wildlife had all been eradicated. If they moved quickly, they might be able to stop the epidemic before it really started. The problem with tracking rabid animals was that they did not follow logical patterns of behavior once the disease took hold. They wouldn’t be able to make assumptions about where the wolf was heading until they actually came across him. Veylia knew the men looking at her were wondering about the intelligence of allowing such an inexperienced person to go with them when the rules of the hunt couldn’t be counted on to remain constant. Luckily, with Shaman’s backing none of them would question her presence openly and so she made up her mind to ignore their gazes.  
  
Once their ritualistic preparations out of the way, the group split up into smaller bands and set out to search for recent signs of the wolf’s passing. Veylia’s party headed in the direction where she had found Niru in the hopes that the animal’s trail would still be readable. It was over a day old at this point, but it was also the last known location of the creature. They could not overlook the chance that their prey might still be in the area.   
  
A heavy layer of dew clung to everything, and even the most waterproof of their gear quickly became soaked through. Already the tell-tale haze of humidity hung in the air, indicating the day was shaping up to be uncomfortable by all possible reckonings. In a way, that helped their cause as fewer creatures would be inclined to move about in the oppressive summer heat once the sun climbed a bit higher in the sky. Only something afflicted with the foaming sickness would be insensible enough to travel while the others sought shelter to wait out the heat of the day.   
  
At least, that was what Nielri, the eldest hunter of the group, insisted as they made their way through noisily through the woods, the men of the party confident their prey had moved on and therefore not bothering to mask their presence. Twice, Veylia tried to caution them that they should move more carefully, only to be rebuffed each time by guffaws and pats on her head. In fact, it almost seemed to her like they made an effort to be even louder whenever she said something, so she quit trying and followed along in silence while the others boasted of their recent sexual conquests.  
  
Nielri was in the middle of telling a crude joke when disaster struck. A loud snarl was all the warning the group received before a flash of gray and black launched itself from the bushes. Powerful jaws clamped around the soft flesh of the eldest’s neck and yanked hard, tearing Nielri’s throat completely free in a spray of crimson droplets. The two men behind the fallen hunter scrambled to chase after the beast, while Veylia scurried up a nearby tree and unslung her bow from her shoulder. She knew better than to try to get in close to a crazed animal to dispatch it, but the others seemed to have forgotten that most basic rule in the surprise of losing one of their own so quickly.   
  
“Get out of the way!” she snarled from her perch above the fray, trying to get a clear line of sight on the wolf with an arrow.   
  
Neither man listened, and it was Parah who fell next, screaming in pain while the wolf sank its teeth into the hunter’s shoulder. The wolf continued snapping its jaws at Parah’s neck and face while Jathor tried to pull the beast from the other hunter, completely blocking Veylia’s view of the body. It was clear Jathor was reacting rather than thinking, because his knife stayed sheathed on his hip while he wrestled with the frenzied beast that was removing chunks from his friend. When Jathor made a grab at the wolf’s scruff, it whirled on him instinctively and bit down on the largest open target it could reach, leaving the third hunter with a gaping wound in his side from which pieces of the man’s entrails dangled. He let go, either from pain or death - Veylia couldn’t be sure, and the wolf bounded off into the brush heading toward the village before she could fire a single shot.  
  
She swore loudly. In a matter of seconds her entire hunting party had been decimated entirely through their own carelessness. She didn’t bother checking on the condition of the wounded. She was no healer and even if the injuries hadn’t already killed them, they would need far more help than she would be able to provide on her own. Instead, she slung her bow back over her shoulder and took to the pathway made by the sturdy branches of the great trees of the forest, relying on her slight frame and low weight to allow her to travel quickly on the trail of the diseased wolf without placing herself in the same situation that had claimed the rest of her party. She only had one goal now; to stop the beast from reaching the village and taking any further lives.   
  
She raced along the thick branches, jumping from tree to tree. She could see the wolf ahead of her on the ground, weaving its way through the underbrush with no real sense of rhyme or reason to its flight. At one point, it made a complete loop around a small clearing before continuing on its path in the general direction of her village at breakneck speed. She needed it to slow down or she was going to lose it at this rate. The only thing keeping her on its tail was the haphazard manner in which it ran along, looping around trees and changing direction at random.   
  
At last, it darted inside of a cave she recognized as a popular hiding place for village children. She’d often played there alone herself, exploring the shadows and crevices created by the jagged rocks inside, and so she knew there was no other way into or out of the dark maw. Sooner or later the beast would have to emerge. She just needed to be patient. Panting hard to catch her breath, she climbed down from the tree she was in and removed her bow. She chose a spot that was concealed from view to set up and nocked an arrow. Feeling as prepared as she was going to get, she waited.  
  
Sweat trickled down Veylia’s nose, prompting a sudden urge to slap at her face. The sun had climbed high in the sky while she’d been tracking the wolf alone through the forest. The instant she saw movement she would loose her arrow, but not yet. A fly buzzed around her head; no doubt sent by the gods to test her focus. She would not be tricked so easily, especially not after witnessing what happened to Nielri, Parah, and Jathor. Let the men mock her for being a girl-child playing at the hunt. They didn’t understand what it was like to feel the call of Brother Wolf in their veins the way she did. She ran with him every night in her dreams, and studied his children by day.   
  
As time slipped by the minutes slackened their pace to a crawl, passing with aching slowness that left her longing to be able to get up and stretch her tense limbs. Her mind was free to drift, but her body remained taut and ready for the wolf to reappear. She’d been aiming her longbow at the cave entrance for over an hour now; a fact of which her shoulders complained bitterly. She would not let the her target get away, but she was not foolish enough to go in after it. The cave was too dark, and there were too many places where he could be positioned where she wouldn’t see it until it was too late. No, she would wait. She would not make the same mistake as the other hunters.  
  
A rustling in the bushes off to the right of the cave entrance caught her attention. The cadence suggested a two-legged visitor rather than four, which worried her and caused time to all but come to a complete stop. Moments later, a boy she recognized as Shaman Alev’s youngest popped out, skipping carelessly through the underbrush on his way to play in the cave and making as much noise as only children could make. Veylia didn’t even have time to call out a warning to Maty before the beast leaped out to attack the source of the sound, though to her eyes it seemed to float like a feather carried on a lazy breeze. She reacted on instinct, swivelling her arrow to track the arc of the wolf’s path and releasing it to strike where she anticipated it would cross before her.   
  
Maty shrieked in terror and cowered in the pose of one who could feel Lady Death’s cold finger on his shoulder, but that final touch never came. When he opened his eyes, the wolf lay dead on the ground before him, the shaft of an arrow protruding from its eye socket. Veylia’s aim had been perfect, and time again moved at its normal pace. Rising from her hiding spot opposite the cave, she walked over to the young boy to ensure he hadn’t been hurt and move him away from the dangerous blood and foam pooling beneath the wolf’s head.   
  
“Go, Maty, and fetch your father,” she instructed once she was certain he was unharmed. “Tell him he is needed to cleanse this area. The wolf is a threat no longer.” The boy nodded his assent and darted off back to the village. It wouldn’t take him long to bring the Shaman, she knew, as they were less than a half-mile from the nearest hut. Truth be told, she’d be surprised if someone hadn’t overheard the boy’s scream and was already on the way.  
  
She knelt beside the animal and inspected it now that it was safe to do so. It was much larger than she’d expected, probably weighing as much as she did, if not more. Likely, he’d been the pack alpha before being infected given his unusual size. She understood a bit better how he’d taken down so many of their hunters. It was a shame, really. Even in sickness, he was beautiful. The fur had not yet taken on the matted, diseased look of a creature who had been afflicted with the foaming sickness for more than a few days. They were lucky, then. The longer it was ill, the more likely it was to infect other animals rather than mauling them to death, as his strength would have begun to fade before much longer once the disease had thoroughly eaten its way through his brain. He hadn’t yet deteriorated that far, but it wouldn’t have taken more than a day or two more at most.  
  
Numerous footsteps clomped heavily on the game path in her direction, signalling the arrival of the Shaman and several others. She stood beside her kill to receive them, bowing her head solemnly when they appeared.   
  
“Shaman Alev,” she greeted with an incline of her head as she’d witnessed her older brothers do when they’d met with the man in the past. The elder man dwarfed her in size, as did those who’d arrived with him, but she still locked eyes with him as if she were of equal stature. She pointedly ignored the whispers and stares of the warriors gathered at the Shaman’s back. She cared not that they found it shocking that she alone had taken down a beast responsible for the deaths of so many well-trained men in their tribe. It had needed to be done and she had been the one blessed to carry out the task. The Shaman, at least, appeared unsurprised and almost a bit amused by the sight of her there, which was all that really mattered.  
  
Admittedly, one of the warriors was harder to dismiss from her mind than the others, but Tamen the Brave had that effect on women. Even if he hadn’t been the image of a god brought to life, his skill alone made him a desirable match for any female. He’d been a prodigy within the tribe as well, leading men twice his age in battle against the darkspawn that continually harassed their people at a time when he’d barely come into his own manhood. He stood off to Alev’s right, slightly behind the Shaman, but his presence filled the area moreso than anyone else there. He had eight winters on her in age, placing him at only the beginning of his prime. He’d already been blessed with three wives for his prowess; a rare feat considering the best of warriors normally only warranted two if they were lucky. Allowing their best to take multiple wives ensured the tribe had no shortage of strong men to lead them in the future, and Tamen’s bloodline was one of the most highly regarded by their people.   
  
“The hunt was successful, though not without losses. Did Parah or Jathor make it back?” Veylia asked, forcing her eyes back to Alev’s face. Her tone and posture were formal as she spoke; an attempt to add those last few months of age she lacked to be considered a full adult by the tribe. She didn’t bother asking about Nielri. He’d been quite obviously dead before she’d set off after the wolf on her own. When the Shaman shook his head she sighed, though his answer didn’t surprise her. “Then I expect they will be found along with Nielri where the wolf ambushed us. We were not far from where Niru fell.”  
  
Without waiting for direction from the Shaman, three of the men set off immediately in the direction she’d indicated to go retrieve their fallen brethren. Alev held his hand in front of Veylia’s forehead and began speaking as if he hadn’t noticed their departure. “Truly, child, you have been blessed by Brother Wolf to achieve what others could not. Your actions not only ensured the safety of our tribe, but you saved my own son in the process. Tonight, we will sing of your deeds as we give thanks to the gods for gracing us with such a hunter. Your actions have brought honor to your family. This day will be remembered by all.”  
  
Veylia blinked in surprise, then stared up at Alev. The Shaman intended for their people to sing of her? That was something only reserved for the best of the tribe; someone like Tamen. Her eyes flicked toward the warrior in question impulsively in an attempt to gauge his reaction to the Shaman’s words. His expression was impossible for her to read, but his unwavering gaze left her feeling unsettled for reasons she was unable to name. Resolutely, she pushed her discomfort aside and bowed her head once more in respect.   
  
“Th-thank you, Shaman,” she said softly. “I shall do my best to continue to bring honor to my family and the tribe.”


End file.
